


Blame It On The Bikram

by Satine86



Series: On The Rocks [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 22:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4365797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke is deadset on checking out the new yoga class. Varric is less than thrilled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame It On The Bikram

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vehlr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vehlr/gifts).



“Oh, come ooooooooon,” Hawke whined in spectacular fashion, face screwed up like a petulant child, fists balled at her sides. Varric was surprised she hadn't stamped her foot yet.

Oh, wait, there we go. 

“Okay are you an adult or a five year old, because I'm very confused right now.” 

“Varric,” she said, somehow managing to drag his name out into at least twenty syllables. “Just come with me. I don't want to go by myself.”

“Then ask Rivaini.”

“She's busy.”

He paused, sucking his teeth while he thought. “What if you asked anyone other than me? I clearly don't need to go to the gym.”

And he didn't. They both knew it. Hell, he was probably in better shape than she was, yet he knew he wasn't going to get out of it. He should just accept defeat... but no, he would go down fighting. 

“Look, it's a free day. There's no need to sign up. I just want to check it out because it's new and close to my house and it would be convenient. But I don't want to go alone! Please just come with meeeeee.”

“Maker, you really can't do anything by yourself, can you?” 

“Nope.”

Varric huffed out a sigh. “Fine, I'll tag along.” 

Hawke pumped her fist in the air, letting out an enthusiastic whoop, and he was already regretting his decision. 

 

* * * 

 

The gym was completely top of the line, all crisp lines and gleaming chrome. Varric was more than happy to check out the weights and equipment. Screw the treadmill though, he was not running. 

Hawke, however, had other plans, already dragging him bodily down the corridor to the classrooms. “There's a class just starting.”

“I'm not taking a class, Hawke.” 

“Yes, we are.” 

“No, we are not.”

She stopped and looked back at him. “Yes, we are. I already put your name down. Don't want to fuck up the instructor's quota do you?” 

“You're horrible. Why are we friends?” 

“Because you loooooooooove me.” Hawke grinned and grabbed his hand, yanking him into the room. 

“I sometimes really regret the fact I know you,” he muttered as he dodged around the housewives and businesswomen all clamoring for the class. Oh, Maker, if this was a Zumba class he was going to kill Hawke. 

“What is this? I'm the only guy here,” he hissed at Hawke. 

She grinned down at him serenely. “Hot Yoga.”

“You have got to be shitting me.” As if regular yoga wasn't bad enough...

“Nope.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Prepare to sweat.” 

“I hate you. I really hate you.” Though all other muttered threats were forgotten once the instructor walked in. 

Her head of short dark hair was bent over the class list, and yet she still moved with a strong, purposeful stride as she entered the room. The black sports bra she wore crisscrossed her tanned back, revealing toned muscles and smooth skin, and abs so cut they could probably grate cheese. Her purple and black shorts sat low on her hips, and were so obscenely tight that Varric was already sweating. 

She looked up, brown eyes sharp as she counted heads before making a note on the clipboard and setting it down. “Good, everyone is here,” she said softly in a voice tinged with a Nevarran accent. Maker, even her voice was hot. 

She clapped her hands together and addressed the class properly. “Hello, I am Cassandra, and will be your instructor for today. This is Bikram, or Hot Yoga. If this is your first time, please listen to your body. If you feel lightheaded or overly warm at any point, taking a rest is perfectly all right. And do remember to drink plenty of water after.” 

Haha, what if he already felt lightheaded? Not to mention hot and bothered. What then, Instructor? How was he going to survive an hour of this?

“Easy, big boy,” Hawke sniggered under her breath. “You're drooling.”

“Shut up,” he said through clenched teeth. He was highly embarrassed when Hawke started laughing in earnest and Cassandra gave them both a long look. Shit, now he was going to be known as the troublemaker of the class. He glared at his still giggling friend. 

Varric barely registered as the doors were shut, the heat cranking up as Cassandra started with some complicated pretzel bendy shit that was supposed to be “a simple first position.” Varric had his doubts about the entire thing, but he tried. 

Sort of. 

Sometimes it was difficult to focus on foot placement and where your hand went when he could see every ripple of her muscles, the picturesque lines she made with her long limbs...

He didn't want to be that guy. He _really_ didn't. Because this was her job, it was work. She was a professional. Not to mention the actual skill and strength required for it. Really, he had the utmost respect for her and what she did... but her doing it did _things_ to him.

They were supposed to be holding some Maker forsaken position, and he just couldn't. He might've been able to if the instructor had been someone else, but at the moment he just couldn't. So he plopped down on his mat, ignoring Hawke's shit eating grin next to him. 

Hell, Cassandra had said to take breaks if you felt off. He was definitely more than a little _off_. And it was all her fault. 

“Are you feeling all right?” 

His head snapped up when he realized she was kneeling next to him. Up close she was even more stunning than he had imagined, and a droplet of sweat just happened to take that moment to trail down her long neck, disappearing down the front of her sports bra, right between her breasts. 

How had he managed to piss off the Maker so thoroughly as to deserve this?

“Uh, yeah, fine,” he managed to say, voice a little strangled. He cleared this throat. “Just not my normal thing, you know?” 

“I had, uh, gathered as much.” Her eyes, which were a lovely brown with disgustingly long lashes, darted to his arms, bared in his tank, before lifting to meet his gaze again. “It was good of you to come with your girlfriend. Very sweet.”

He barely registered her words at first, had she just checked him out? Maybe he was hallucinating in the heat. Eventually what she said sank in. “Huh? Hawke?” He looked at his friend, concentrating on her current pose, eyes pinched at the corners. Good, she was starting to suffer. 

“No, no! She's not my girlfriend. She's just my friend... who happens to enjoy seeing me in pain.” 

“Oh,” she breathed, eyes widening slightly. “I see. I'm sorry to have made assumptions.” 

“Nah, it's fine. It happens.” He waved a hand airily, affecting a much calmer demeanor than he felt. Especially when another droplet of sweat trailed down her arm. Andraste's flaming knickers he wanted to follow that path with his tongue. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“I should check on the others.” She flashed a brief smile before standing up. Varric swallowed thickly, tried not to stare at her legs. 

“Good plan,” he said as she nodded and went to correct Hawke's pose. 

The second half of the class went by just as tortuously as the first half had. By the end of it, he felt like death. He was too hot. Too sore. Too frustrated. 

As everyone started filing out, Cassandra stood by the door, thanking them all for coming. Her posture was perfectly straight, hands folded in front of her. She somehow managed to look invigorated rather than overheated and irritated like the grand majority of the class. 

“Thank you for coming,” she nodded at Varric and Hawke as they made for the door. It was in that moment he realized they were the last people in the room. 

“No, thank you. Great class. Definitely worked up a sweat.” Varric cursed himself a fool. Oh, no shit, Hot Yoga made you sweat. Real smooth, you piece of shit. 

“Yeah, very sweaty work,” Hawke said behind him. Maker, he'd forgotten she was there. “Maybe next time you two can sweat together in private? I think Varric would like that.”

“HAWKE!” Varric whirled around, clamping a hand over her mouth. Honestly, she was turning into Isabela. He ventured a glance back at Cassandra, apologetic smile in place. “Please ignore her, she was clearly dropped on her head as a child.” 

He jumped back from Hawke with a yelp, staring at her incredulously. “Did you just lick my hand?” 

She shrugged, and looked over his head at Cassandra, “I'll leave you two alone to talk about the details!” She then scampered out of the room cackling like mad. 

“She is very... bold,” Cassandra said. 

Varric felt his face flush with embarrassment, adding to his overall ruddiness. Fantastic. “Yeah, she's... special.” 

He chanced a look at her, hands behind her back, eyes firmly locked on her toes. Of course, she wore embarrassment well. She probably wore _everything_ well. He paused as he looked at her, was it embarrassment? Or shyness? 

That was an interesting development. 

“Since you're not used to this, you should rehydrate. A lot.”

“Right, will do.” Beer counted right? Because he really needed to go drown himself in beer. 

“There's a, uh, there's a juice bar connected to the gym.” She stopped and closed her eyes, lips pressed together; she looked as if she was preparing herself to dive into an icy pond. “Would you like to join me? This was my last class of the day.” 

He stared at her, wondering if he'd heard right. Could be more heat induced delusions, after all.

“I, um...” he floundered for words. 

“HE WOULD LOVE TO!” Hawke screeched from the hall. 

“Yeah.” Varric nodded. “What she said.”


End file.
